


Meet Cute

by speedgriffon



Series: Dragon Age: Evelyn Cousland Fics [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Canon Dialogue, F/M, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-29
Updated: 2015-09-29
Packaged: 2018-04-24 01:01:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4899508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/speedgriffon/pseuds/speedgriffon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alistair and Evelyn meet for the very first time. (Taken from an old project.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meet Cute

_I have found a recruit in Highever—Teyrn Cousland’s youngest daughter Evelyn. She is capable beyond words and is worthy of becoming a Grey Warden. Our travel is swift and you should expect us back within the week. Try not to cause too much trouble with the mages until I return._

_-Duncan_

* * *

Alistair glanced over the missive once more, a smile tugging at his lips at Duncan’s words. How the older man knew him so well after a short amount of time was still amusing.  _Am I really that predictable_ , Alistair thought before answering it himself with a resounding  _yes, Alistair, you are_.

“I’m even talking to myself.” He admitted aloud, glancing around from his perch atop one of the many Ostagar ruins. With nobody around, it was almost quiet but Alistair could still hear the distant voices of soldiers’ conversation and further off, the whisper of the darkspawn horde. He frowned to himself, hoping Duncan made it back in time. He wasn’t sure he could ride into battle with his… _King_  without his trusted mentor.

Alistair had come to this spot to collect his thoughts and to size up the other recruits Duncan had sent ahead. Daveth had come from Denerim and it took Alistair almost no time at all to surmise the rogue was nothing more than a petty thief. He questioned Duncan’s choice before remembering that the senior Grey Warden had come from a similar path—it was not Alistair’s place to judge. Still, he wasn’t fond of Daveth’s attitude and avoided the man soon after meeting him.

Ser Jory was somebody Alistair couldn’t decide was  _too_  good for the Wardens, or not good enough. The man had a noble track record serving as a knight for Arl Eamon; something Alistair held in high regard. But he was also incredibly suspicious of the Warden’s secrecy and would not stop questioning Alistair on what was to come. Alistair only hoped that the third and final recruit Duncan found made a better impression on him. Not that  _his_  opinion mattered.

“ _Ser_  Alistair?”

Alistair perked up his head at the sound of his name, confused at the unnecessary title. But then his brain caught up, catching the sarcasm laced through the question and when he turned he found himself faced with a mage from the encampment just below where he stood.  _Oh yes_ , he remembered,  _the revered mother’s message_. Alistair wondered why he had even agreed to be a messenger for the woman—considering she was so reluctant for Alistair to leave all those months ago. Would her message even be relevant now?

“You called for me?” The mage asked, his attitude already showing through. Alistair nodded, but already felt anxious.

“Yes! I have a missive for you.” He handed over the letters with the Chantry seal. The mage eyed them suspiciously.

“What is it  _now_?” The mage hissed, his brows knitting together. Out of the corner of his eye Alistair noticed another person walking up the small hill, this time a woman in light scale armor. She stayed back, away from the conversation and Alistair glanced back to the mage. “Haven’t the Grey Wardens asked more than enough of the Circle?”

“I simply came to deliver a message from the revered mother,  _Ser_  mage.” Alistair countered, watching as his tone caused an expression of distain to come over the mage’s face. “She desires your presence.”

“What her Reverence ‘ _desires’_  is of no concern.” The mage tore at the letter, flipping through the many pages of the missive. “I am busy helping the Grey Wardens—by the  _King’s_ orders I might add!”

Alistair couldn’t help but smirked. “Would it have been better if I asked her to write a note?”

“I will  _not_  be harassed in this manner!” The mage argued, and Alistair wondered why he was being so combative. The woman that had neared seemed to be holding a curious expression, and Alistair could only chuckle on her behalf. How childish could this conversation sound to outside ears?

“Yes!  _I_  was harassing  _you_  by delivering a message.” Alistair spoke in a snide tone, if only to press the mage’s patience. Finally, the other man sighed, shaking his head.

“Your glibness does you  _no_  credit.”

And here Alistair thought they were getting along so well. Before he could make another teasing joke the mage shook his head, turning to walk away but pausing to stare at the woman momentarily. She regarded the mage for a moment before stepping towards Alistair, who was still wishing he had the final say. He turned to greet her, a grin on his lips.

“You know,  _one_  good thing about the Blight is how it brings people together.” He sighed, before staring at the woman before him. She raised a questioning brow.

“Sorry, what?” She asked, seemingly confused by his statement. Alistair blinked, before realizing that not  _everyone_  was used to his absurdity.

“Oh, nothing.” He meekly smiled at her. “Just trying to find a bright side to all this.”

Alistair paused to eye her face a bit more carefully. The woman had short black hair that framed her face and fringe that fell over her forehead and eyes a deep shade of green—conventionally pretty, but a woman Alistair had never seen before. He trusted his brain enough to remember a face as lovely as the one before him. Swallowing his accursed boyish thoughts, he switched the subject.

“We…haven’t met, have we?” He raised an eyebrow as he lowed his eyes to take in the sight of her obviously well worn armor. On her back rested a shield, and on her belt rested a long sword and a hunter’s dagger. She was already an enigma. “You wouldn’t happen to be another mage?”

Alistair knew the question was stupid the moment it fell from his lips and felt his ears heat up in mild embarrassment. The woman only shook her head once.

“Would that make your day worse?” She asked, rather flatly for Alistair’s taste. It started off sounding like a jest, but her expression had yet to change from the mild suspicion she was carrying. He was nervous, and could only nervously chuckle.

“ _Hardly_.” He answered before sliding his lips into a smirk. “I just like to know my chances of being turned into a toad at any given moment.”

 _Nothing_ —not even a glimmer of amusement at his joke. Alistair puffed out his cheeks, beside himself. Usually he would at least land a sympathetic grin. He looked over her once more, suddenly annoyed at how long it took his mind to connect the dots.

“I  _do_  know you!” He watched as she continued to look at him questionably. Alistair wondered if he was giving off a certain kind of vibe she was uncomfortable with. “Duncan’s new recruit from Highever? I should have recognized you…” He gulped, his anxiety rising at her unchanging expression, suddenly forgetting her name. “I apologize.”

“How would you recognize me?” Finally her face shifted, if only for her brows to knot together in mild confusion. Alistair blinked before recalling the letter bit by bit; but not her name. Why was he never good with names?

“Duncan sent word and spoke quite highly of you.” She seemed even more surprised and he cleared his throat again, wondering where all his nerves were coming from. “I’m  _Alistair_ , though…I guess you knew that.”

“I’ll be accompanying you when you prepare for the joining.” He finished. The woman’s lips skewed in a small pout and he had a moment of panic.

“What can you tell me about this…joining?” She seemed unsure, and Alistair was already wondering if Duncan had made another unsavory choice in a recruit. He shook his head, trying not to jump to conclusions.

“Honestly, nothing!” He offered a small apologetic smile when her pout fell into a frown. “Try not to worry about it…it will only distract you.” He wondered if his nerves had anything to do with her more  _female_  aspects. It was becoming increasingly difficult for him to ignore the fact that she was beautiful, something that was hard to come by in a field of gritty and war-worn men. Another nervous chuckle came from him.

“There haven’t been many women in the Grey Wardens you know…” He trailed, not even thinking about how much he had been speaking. “I won-der why that _is_.”

Quickly, she retorted. “I can handle myself better than most.”

Alistair could only laugh, not expecting anything less. “I’m getting that impression…” He eyed her, smiling, but she did not return one as he hoped. “Lets…head back to Duncan then? Unless you have anymore questions?”

“Do you even know my name?” She quipped, and he wondered if the way her lips were skewed up was what her smirk looked liked. It was more intimidating than he wanted to admit. He squeaked as his face flushed in embarrassment—he couldn’t remember. She sighed before extending her hand, and Alistair nervously accepted her handshake. “Evelyn Cousland—Evelyn is fine.”

 _Evelyn_ ,  _Evelyn, Evelyn_ —he committed the name to memory, silently rolling it over his tongue as he scanned over her face as well. With their hands still joined, combined with his intense stare, it wasn’t surprising that her cheeks seemed to tint a soft pink. Alistair chuckled under his breath as he pulled his hand away, it pressing to the back of his neck in a nervous tick.

“I look forward to travelling with you, Alistair.” Evelyn spoke, and he found himself jealous at how easy it was for her to compose herself.  _A noble lady indeed_ , he reminded himself.

“ _Really_?” Alistair smirked, her polite words surprising to his ears. “Well that’s a switch.”

Evelyn raised a brow at him and he instantly flattened his expression, nervous once more about annoying her with his humorous deflection. The last thing he needed to do was give the female population more reasons to dislike him. He cleared his throat with a nervous cough before flashing a more refined smile.

“Right. Let’s go then.” She spoke softly, her eyes flicking up to meet his gaze.

It was then that Alistair noticed the sadness behind her emerald stare but before he could get lost in them she blinked and turned away. It was the first hint Alistair received that there was something more to Evelyn’s quiet nature after all.


End file.
